sound of science

i'm NOT depressed. i'm just using this blog as an outlet for when things get too weird.

as, for example, now--i'm wondering if every sizeable part in every opera will be as difficult to handle emotionally as cornelia's being (that totally maybe makes grammatical sense). i mean, granted, she has about thirteen arias, ALL of which deal with the subject of wanting to kill herself (a slight exaggeration). but, although i like comic characters, it's the tragic ones that kind of do it for me. and being cornelia's kind of killing me a little.

in a way it's probably just that it's too damn much to do. between the rehearsals for giulio cesare, the rehearsals for rake's progress chorus, and the rehearsals for suor angelica, even though i haven't put in ANY time on either rake's progress OR suor angelica (nothing like being a super-impressive student, here)--and class, even though i skipped class a bunch last week--and this...whatever it is, paint-by-number project of piecing myself together out of colors, voices, answered questions, and random-ass symbolism--

it's not working out. there's not enough of me to go around.

which is what everyone says. and they always survive. and i'm going to survive. but at what cost? i refuse to give on the cornelia thing. i'm going to keep trying to put more than as much of myself as is possible into her. i hope it's working; i don't actually know.

i mean, i hope that it's not just being her that's making me this...shattered; i want to be shattered, at the end of my rope, etc., because that's where she is; i just don't want to be there all the time. in a professional production, would the rehearsal time be this long? maybe, right? but i wouldn't be trying to do as much? except i might?


there's a rumor floating around within the various entities that are trying to help me piece together a self-identifiable self--you know, the ones that might mean i'm crazy? it's that pain is my gift. like buffy, with death. oh god. i mean, that the way pain is within me is a gift of mine (nice rephrase, sra. way to really explain the heck out of the concept). i don't understand what this means--i don't see what it entails, aside from the berserker streak that might just be a product of over-strong amygdalic reaction. pain is a method by which i define myself, but i use it in the old sense--the unconnected, over-intellectual, overly brutal sense of self, self in the vacuum, that i'm being reformulated from. i don't know how to break the hard plastic shell and get at the truth behind pain... it's too separate, too distinct. maybe that's the issue.

right now my shoulders hurt real bad. i'm not loving the sensation.

bitch and moan. bitch and moan.